i've spent a lot of time with the windmills, and their surroundings. in the short time i've known them, they have stayed consistent. the corn fields below however, have gradually grown up from dirt to a foot and change of green stalk. the grass at the roadside has been overwhelmed by the strange weeds that have manifested themselves, bearing strange peeling flowers. i have also changed in ways, but the windmills churn the air when i'm there, and in my absence. every second. and the sky remains the same, with the exception and variation of cloud cover. the moon and sun revolve like clockwork, and there is a very mechanical feel to the whole place. i sit and attempt to calculate the physics of why the tips of the fans move faster than the roots, also wondering whether there is a well for tears or if they are simply produced on demand. there is the consistent rattle of long, rapidly moving semi-trucks, their white panels reflecting sunlight. and in the distance, across the way, the local landfill is also doing its part. all of us never-failing, at least for now.

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he was telling me of the dreams he recently had, and how i was fondly placed in them. he was a straight-laced man, an all work and no play man. i was honored that he would even consider muttering such bizarre dreams to me, exposing his silently strange world. it was dark out. we were in the orchard. and i swung from a rope as the group of people i was only slightly familiar with moved around in the woods, looking for something to do. they gradually made their way further in, torches in hand, while i stayed on the outskirts watching. i heard a horse scream from a great distance away. and then again. something must be wrong, so i decided to stop swinging and head towards the house. as i walked, i felt my nerves begin to agitate. i was a bit worried. he was in front of me slightly, moreso at my right side. i was about to reach the house when an immense softness grazed my left hand. i looked up, and racing past were two enormous black dogs. they charged the man in front of me and began to eat him up. they were no ordinary dogs.
they were at big as tigers and as black as they could possibly be. their coats were beautiful and shiny. very clean and well-groomed. i ran into the house and slammed the glass door, locking it.
i tried to let everyone inside, but by now there were dozens of these giant wolves attacking everyone in sight. a younge boy ran to the door for me to let him in, but i couldn't. i watched the wolves tear him apart and carry him away. my grandmother came up behind me, along with a strange child. i instinctively told her to close the windows and lock them. i looked outside again to see an older gentleman screaming and thrashing about, staring at his hands as they took new shape. as i stood there watching, a smaller wolf pushed the door open, and attempted to make an entrance. i frantically pinched it in the doorway as hard as i could, and watched myself slowly crush it. it went limp. i turned around to see another small wolf in the house. i ran to the kitchen for the largest knife i could find and stabbed it into the creatures ribs. i waited to watch it die, but first it walked to the couch and lay down. i realized my mistake. i sat down next to the animal, and it began to tell me why all of this was happening. why he was the way he was.
before this he had been a sailor, a young, blonde boy. on a certain voyage they sailed with a strange man from england, who preferred a great deal of sugar in his tea. the boy had fetched sugar for this foreign man at one point, and they had befriended each other. but..